Dust and Bitter Longing
by Rorry Lamb
Summary: When Rose is pulled out of her own world and flung into another she never expected to get tangled up in an adventure. But she knows enough about wandering and longing to feel an innate need to help Thorin Oakenshield and his company of dwarves. She expected danger, death, she just never expected to find love along the way.
1. Strangers at the Door

The thunderous pitter-patter of fat raindrops beating against Bilbo's kitchen window turns out to be rather a soothing thing. It's been so long since the last good storm and Bilbo has always loved the smell that lingers in the air after a good rain. It doesn't hurt that the dark, low-hanging clouds and the biting winds have been enough to keep most respectable hobbits well within their homes. The exception being the children playing blissfully in the mud and the occasional man or woman off on their way to see to family members or perhaps a very close friend.

There has been no one to entertain, no gossip to listen to, nothing to ruffle Bilbo Baggin's perfectly laid feathers.

Most of his time is spent reading, and organizing, and snacking, and enjoying his pipe next to the cracked open window in his kitchen where the rain can't get in due to the ledge above the glass. It's rather peaceful. Much more peaceful then Bilbo's found himself becoming used to over the past several days, which is likely why he finds himself vaguely uncomfortable... All the same, he finds himself rather put out when a series of urgent knocks startles him just enough that he somehow manages to spill freshly brewed tea across his lap.

_Rather a shame_, Bilbo thinks to himself as he stumbles out of the kitchen with a napkin which he uses to dab at his pants, _to spill such fine tea! _

The knocking doesn't stop and it makes Bilbo want to roll his eyes.

"Yes, yes," He calls as he nears the door. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Annoyance flaring in his chest Bilbo pulls the door open with a curt greeting that catches in his throat when he sees the young woman balancing precariously with one pale hand against his door frame while the other hovers in the air, prepared to knock once more upon his door.

"Are you alright, miss?" He asks the stranger, shocked to find a woman from the race of man standing at his door... And in such poor weather too.

She manages to catch his eyes before responding.

"I'm terribly sorry." Her mouth moves but something seems very strange about the way she's speaking, "But I'm rather lost and I think I may be injured."

Now, Bilbo's father raised him to be a proper gentle-hobbit and so it is with no reluctance that Bilbo steps forward to help the young woman into his home, carefully guiding her so that she doesn't accidentally knock her head against the door frame. Once the door is shut and Bilbo has her situated on the small bench against the wall the hobbit quickly goes to light some of the oil lamps on the wall.

He almost wishes he hadn't.

The woman's face hadn't appeared too odd in the low light offered by the kitchen and the singular hall light. But now? With more light to gaze upon her injuries Bilbo finds himself growing panicked. Because there is quite a bit of bruising on her forehead and a fair bit of blood smeared around her temple. The amount pales in comparison to that which covers her shirt and drips onto his bench, however.

"Oh my, one moment miss and I'll fetch you a healer!" He cries before slipping her arm over his shoulder and guiding her trembling body into the kitchen.

Bilbo settles his newfound guest in a chair next to the fire; wooden and covered with an old cushion which Bilbo has no personal attachment too other then he likes the pattern of the cloth. It can catch any blood and water that might drip onto the chair and Bilbo can dispose of it properly later. It also seems to be the best place to put the injured woman and once she's settled Bilbo grabs several towels from the linen closet, one to staunch whatever bleeding she has and the others to help her dry off faster, and makes his way back to her side.

"Thank you." The woman's words are slurred and thick with an accent he's never heard before but her eyes are focused as she looks into his.

Again, the feeling that something is off makes Bilbo a bit more nervous.

But surely the fact that her words are slurred and her mouth is moving oddly is due to her pain or the amount of blood she's lost in the time between her accident and the moment she found his home. There's no way to tell how long the woman's been wandering but Bilbo knows just as well as the next person that blood loss can do strange things to a person's head.

Without thinking Bilbo grabs a plate of lemon-raspberry biscuits from the table and thrusts them into the girl's trembling hands.

He isn't sure what it will do for her but he hopes that if nothing else she can keep herself focused while he runs to get help... Who knows, maybe she'll get a bit of her energy back in the process.

"Now just you relax and try to eat something. I'll be off to get Old Hob Cotton. He's a healer and doesn't live too far from here." Bilbo explains slowly.

The girl nods jerkily and obediently raises one of the yellow-and-red-tinted biscuits from his plate. For a moment Bilbo worries about the girl breaking his china but shakes the concern away as it's an old plate and not one of his better ones. He supposes it's a foolish thing to worry about, broken china.

With one last panicked glance at the pale girl nibbling absently at her biscuit Bilbo pulls on his jacket and rushes out the front door, which swings closed with a light thump behind him.

It's typically a ten minute walk to Old Hob Cotton's smial but Bilbo manages it in less than five. Probably because he has an injured young woman relying on him to get the older hobbit to her in a timely manner and no one around to distract him from his task. Most likely because he'd run from his gate all the way to the chipped green door of his more tolerable neighbor's home.

Panting, Bilbo knocks on the door and shakes some of the rain water out of his eyes.

When the door swing's open to reveal Old Hob's wife instead of the elderly hobbit himself Bilbo flounders for words for a brief moment.

"There's... Is Old Hob in? I... I need... There's an _emergency_." Bilbo managed to say, it's a garbled mess but he can't find it in him to be embarrassed.

Aster Cotton merely stares at him for a moment before disappearing back into her home, forcing Bilbo to wait an agonizing untold number of moments before the door swings open once more to reveal Old Hob himself. He's dressed in a broad hat and an old jacket, a leather bag gripped tight in his hand.

"Well, we'd best be off then." Old Hob says, stepping out into the deluge without so much as a flinch.

"Thank you!" Bilbo breathes as he steps back to allow Old Hob further away from the door where his wife watches them with worried blue eyes.

Bilbo offers her a thin smile and polite nod before turning to lead Old Hob back to his home and the young woman bleeding all over his kitchen.

Neither of them truly speak much as Bilbo leads the older hobbit through the rain. They only exchange the necessary words and even that is a struggle for images of finding the poor woman dead in his kitchen seems to conjure itself to Bilbo's mind whenever he goes to tell Old Hob about the woman of man, hopefully, eating his biscuits.

So when the two of them enter Bilbo's home and make their way to the brightly lit space the younger hobbit is relieved to find that the girl has finished two of the biscuits and has somehow managed to get them back to the table without breaking his china or injuring herself further. Unfortunately, that is the only positive note to the situation Bilbo finds himself stumbling into.

Because the woman's skin is pallid, her eyes are closed, and her head is hanging limply at the neck.

She _looks_ dead.

Bilbo thinks she very well might have been dead if it weren't for the rattling, irregular breaths she keeps drawing.

Thankfully Old Hob is a far deal calmer then Bilbo as he carefully shimmies the woman out of her strange coat and pulls her shirt up to get at the worst of the bleeding after checking her pulse. He doesn't even balk at the long gash that starts at her hip and runs up the side of her body to end somewhere around the middle of her back.

It looks like something got her with its claws.

Movement from the corner of Bilbo's eye pulls his attention away from the bloody mass of torn flesh. Old Hob doesn't even seem bothered by the amount of blood that's currently oozing from the girl's body. Instead, he prepares his equipment with practiced ease. Bilbo watches, with a sick sense of fascination, as Old Hob goes about cleaning the girl's wound by pouring a healthy amount of red wine onto the wound and dabbing a the wound a bit with a fresh cloth.

"Come here, boy." Old Hob commands and Bilbo rushes over to the his side to help the man manipulate the woman's dead-weight around. "Hold her steady."

Bilbo doesn't say anything as Old Hob begins carefully stitching the girl's torn flesh back together.

The pain of it seems to pull her from her sleep for the woman's eye flutter open to stare at them blearily before she clenches them shut and grits her teeth as Old Hob's needle pierces her flesh.

It's a slow process seeing as Old Hob has to stop every once in a while to make sure he's stitching everything back where it needs to be stitched. Bilbo only manages to watch for a few moments before his stomach begins to churn. He continues to help where he can, of course, but there's only so much he can do aside from dab away the blood when he's told and hold her body in position.

After a while Old Hob ties off the last stitch, puts his equipment to the side, and goes to his bag to gather bandages and a large container of honey from his bag. Bilbo watches as Old Hob carefully spreads a generous amount of the golden substance of the bandages before he turns to the woman.

She's staring at him through wide, surprisingly lucid blue eyes.

"Miss..." Bilbo isn't sure what he's trying to say.

It doesn't matter. She doesn't seem too interested in what he has to say anyway. She just continues to stare at him and Bilbo finds himself lost in the deep blue of her eyes. Bilbo feels like a bug pinned beneath her gaze. Small and fragile, completely at the mercy of something bigger and more dangerous then he is. Something must amuse the red haired woman because she smiles weakly at him; teeth almost impossibly straight and white in the light cast by the fire and the lamps.

Her smile turns to a grimace as Old Hob begins applies the bandages to her wounds.

After her torso is completely dressed Old Hob turns his attention to her head wound, carefully wiping away the drying blood to get a look at the source of the bleeding.

"It's just a scratch, nothing to worry about." Old Hob remarks after he finds the wound and takes a look.

"Are you certain? There was quite a bit of blood." Bilbo remarks.

"Common for a head wound, boy, she'll heal up well enough in a few days."

Old Hob still spreads a bit of honey over the wound - to promote healing and keep infection away - before gathering up his tools and putting them away. Bilbo watches as he tosses the bag on the table before motioning to the girl then to the house. Bilbo nods before carefully ushering the girl up out of the chair and, with the help of Old Hob, manages to half carry the woman to a guest room. The bed's a bit small for her but when she's on her side and her legs curled up it's not a terrible fit.

She dozes off pretty quickly after Old Hob arranges the blankets around her shoulders.

"I suggest a few days of bed rest but I'll be back tomorrow to check on her." Old Hob says once they've left the room and shut the door behind them.

"Should I do anything?" Bilbo asks, suddenly very cold.

"Check on her throughout the night, every hour or so, might want to wake her up and get her to drink something but I'd let her rest if I were you." Old Hob replies as he shuffles back into the kitchen to gather his things.

"Thank you."

Old Hob nods his head as he puts his hat on his head. Bilbo doesn't understand how hi hands can be so steady after what they just witnessed, after what they'd just seen. Most folk around here don't get hurt like that very often, sometimes accidents happen but Bilbo's never _seen_ a wound that bad before in his life. Maybe that's the difference between him and Old Hob Cotton.

"Not out of the woods yet, boy, thank me in the morning." With that Old Hob turns and leaves Bilbo's home, pausing only to make sure he's got all of his things before stepping out into the rain.

Bilbo remains standing in the foyer for several long moments before shaking himself from his stupor.

Needing something to do, something other then fretting and worrying, Bilbo gathers this mop and a few other items before beginning to clean up the mess that's been made of his home. He starts with his bench, scrubbing until the watery blood is cleaned up, then he travels into the kitchen. He mops up the blood on the floor, disposes of the soiled cushion, cleans up the china, and quickly disposes of the food.

Eventually his kitchen is nearly spotless and the trembling of his body can no longer be ignored.

Making his way to his own room Bilbo stops momentarily to check on the young woman and, after finding her breathing rather normally, leaves her to rest. He needs to change out of his clothes, he can wash them later but they're damp and uncomfortable. Grabbing a set of night clothes out of the dresser Bilbo makes his way to the bathroom to change and throw his soiled clothes in the hamper.

Once dressed, and less chilled, Bilbo makes his way back to his bedroom where he pulls back the covers so that he can climb into bed and settle down before drawing them up to his nose.

Briefly, he wonders if the woman is too cold.

He hadn't thought to start the fire in her room and Old Hob had only put a light blanket over her. While she hadn't looked cold when Bilbo checked on her last he'd hate to check on her later and find her trembling. With a sigh Bilbo flings the covers off and rises from bed, padding down to the linen closet to gather some lighter weight blankets.

His new housemate is sleeping rather peacefully when Bilbo comes in to spread the new blankets over her form. Bilbo leaves one of the blankets folded around her hips to offer warmth to her legs without overheating the rest of her body.

Would now be a good time to wake her and have her drink something? He doesn't have anything with him but that doesn't matter all that much. The trip to the kitchen isn't a long one and Bilbo makes sure to grab a pitcher and a sturdy cup before returning to the woman's room.

"Miss," Biblo is gentle as he shakes her shoulder, "miss? You must wake up now. Old Hob said you needed to drink something... Miss?"

The fiery haired woman groans lowly, brows furrowing.

Bilbo sags as the tension leaves his frame.

"Miss, I need you to drink."

Blue eyes, dazed and unsettled, flutter about the room for a moment before landing on him. Bilbo offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he offers up the cup to the woman. She stares at it for a long moment before reaching out with trembling hands to take the cup. Unfortunately, she doesn't drink immediately. Instead she just stares into the cup for a long moment before looking back at him.

"It's just water." Bilbo promises.

Bringing the glass closer to her the girl sniffs at the contents once before taking a sip.

A sip turns into a completely empty glass soon enough and when Bilbo offers another the girl drinks it without hesitation. After she places the cup on the bedside table and lays back against the pillows where she continues to stare at Bilbo.

The hobbit clears his throat.

"I'm Bilbo Baggins of Bag End."

It's a bit late to be introducing himself, or maybe too early, but Bilbo isn't sure if the woman trusts him or not and... And he really just wants her to know that she's safe. Whatever attacked her, whatever happened to her before she came to him is over now. Nothing can touch her while she's in his home and Bilbo just wants her to feel safe.

"Rose." The woman says after a moment, "Rose Weasley."

Bilbo's smile feels too big for his face, maybe too big for the situation.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Weasley... I'd best let you sleep now."

A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells Bilbo it's far too early in the morning to be carrying on a conversation. No good hobbit would keep an injured guest up for longer then strictly necessary and Bilbo feels no small amount of guild for doing exactly that. Rising from the chair he bows to his new companion, offers a kind smile, and slips out of the room to let the poor woman rest.

Lingering in the hall with his fingers wrapped firmly around the door Bilbo begins to wonder if it's a good idea to leave the young woman, Rose, alone for the remainder of the night. Old Hob did tell him to check on her and her injuries were severe. Deciding that he'd rather have to explain himself to a terrified woman then find her in even worse condition then he left her, Bilbo opens the door and reenters the room to find his newly acquired house guest already asleep.

Bilbo makes his way over to the desk where he pulls the chair away and over to the bedside. He steals a blanket from the folded pile at the foot of the bed and wraps it around his shoulders before lowering himself into the chair. Once he's settled Bilbo takes a moment to observe the woman laying in the bed.

She can't be much older then twenty, he wouldn't say that she's twenty _exactly_ but she looks younger. There's a scar bisecting her right eyebrow, freckles splattered across her cheeks, her hair a wild mess of fiery red curls that look slightly orange against the white of Bilbo's pillows, and the rim of her ear is covered in piercings. It seems as though she's regaining her color as well, flesh going from a pallid hue to something richer and Bilbo's glad to see it.

Pulling the blanket tighter around him Bilbo wonders what happened to the woman. He'll simply have to ask when she wakes as there's no point in speculating. For all he knows she could have been traveling, fallen, and somehow managed to catch a rock or heavy stick wrong. Her story could be completely mundane and here Bilbo is trying to make it something it isn't.

Casting one more look at the woman Bilbo settles further in the chair to get comfortable and crosses his arms over his chest.

~X~

There's no startled gasp when she wakes, no pawing at her chest to soothe her racing heart, nor is there any frantic attempt to pull herself up the bed. Rose has woken up in enough hospital beds at this point to know better. Besides, she remembers last night. It might not make sense to her, she might not have any idea where she is, but she remembers Bilbo and she remembers him helping another man stitch her shut.

Peeling her eyes open to cast a glance around the room results in a wave of dizziness that leaves Rose swallowing rapidly until the dizziness passes. Once it does Rose allows herself a more tentative look around the room.

It's quaint - well organized and homey.

With a soft groan Rose tentatively rubs grit out of her eyes, hoping that the simple action will help her orient herself a little bit. But when she pulls her hand away and the world is still attempting a lazy spin the young witch merely closes her eyes and begins counting backwards from ten. Once she feels like she's calmed down enough to take in her situation critically Rose opens her eyes again and takes a deep breath.

She'd known, in an abstract sort of way, that something big was going to happen to her when she'd taken the portkey to Peru where she'd be joining a team of curse-breakers at a recently discovered ruins that her employers were entirely too sure housed some ancient treasures. Rose just hadn't been prepared for the mess she'd found herself in her second week there.

And now here she is; injured, displaced, and more then entirely sure she fucked up somehow.

Because when she slipped into Bilbo Baggins' mind those first few moments after he'd opened his door Rose learned that she managed to stumble to some place called Hobbiton and her savior was a hobbit. Rose has never once in her life heard of a hobbit, and considering Hugo is absolutely obsessed with magical creatures...

The door swinging open and the shuffling of steps Rose nearly jumping out of her skin, but one she sees that it's just the man who stitched her up and another Bilbo she quickly relaxes back against the pillows that have been provided for her. She makes sure to make eye contact with Bilbo so that she can slip into his mind and suss out what's being said to her.

His mind is pleasant; warm and gentle and full of sweetness. Rose enjoys being in his head even if she _does_ find it a bit invasive.

Rose makes sure to keep looking at him as the older man, hobbit, talks about removing bandages to check her wound. She thinks he might be shocked to find that despite it not being anywhere near healed it looks a fair deal better then it had last night. The older man poked and prods, cleans the wound, and then re-bandages it while Bilbo watches with avid interest.

Once she's been tended too and given something for the pain Rose looks to the healer - for surely that's what he is - and utters a soft, rasping, "Thank you."

It seems to shock both men, the foreign words that spill from her mouth, but neither of them remark on it. The older one merely bows his head hesitantly before guiding Bilbo out of the room, leaving Rose with nothing to do but attempt to listen in on their conversation. It's a futile attempt but at least it gives Rose something to do as she's not sure where her wand's gone off too.

"Fuck me." Rose breathes quietly to herself as she reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

First things first, after she's well enough to get out of bed she needs to go looking for her wand.


	2. Witchy Woman

Over the next few weeks Rose finds that she's healed enough to be allowed out of bed for short periods of time so long as Bilbo is around to watch her and keep her from harming herself further. They've grown rather close, she and the hobbit. He's tended to her wounds, helped her bathe and shuffle to the bathroom, and when the healer allowed it Bilbo even spent excessive amounts of time with Rose in whatever area of his home she's found herself wanting to visit.

He is a very kind soul.

Rose glances over at her hobbit friend to find his shuffling around his lawn, tending to his brightly colored flowers, pulling weeds, and cleaning debris away from the steps without so much as a word of complaint. It all looks very practiced, like he's done it a thousand times or more and finds great comfort in the familiarity of it. Rose finds that she enjoys watching him and has taken to occupying the bench so that she can do so as she drinks her tea.

It is on one such occasion, when the sun is shining brightly above their heads and Rose is sipping tentatively at a sweet flavored tea, that a startled cry from Bilbo rings out across the lawn. A few of the hobbits meandering about pause to cast him annoyed looks before hurrying off down the road or returning to their previous tasks. Rose snorts as she returns her own attention back to Bilbo who is now hold a very familiar wand between his thumb and forefinger.

Breath catching in her throat, Rose stares at the wand for perhaps too long before calling out to Bilbo.

"Bilbo! Bilbo!" She calls, making the hobbit jerk and stare up at him.

"Rose?"

"It's mine, I thought I lost it!" She calls out even as she projects the meaning of her words into her head.

A neat little trick, but one that's far too difficult to be considered practical for daily use. Hopefully with the wand she'll be able to figure out something else, a charm perhaps? A spell? Something to lessen the language barrier between her and Bilbo.

The subtle clearing of a throat makes Rose glance to Bilbo who's holding her wand between his fingers and smiling nervously at her. Rose takes, trembling fingers running reverently over wood that warms to her touch. She remembers the day Ollivander gave her the wand to test; eleven and one half inches of slightly flexible sycamore wood with a dragon heartstring core, it's intricate design had fascinated Rose and even when she hadn't been able to use it she'd sat in her room and held it in her hand just because she could.

Curling her fingers around the wand Rose raises it to Bilbo's vest, pointing it at the little water stain marring the pretty blue silk, and magics the stain away much to Bilbo's shocked delight. She drops her wand in her lap before leaning back against the bench to watch as Bilbo frets over his vest and Rose and his vest again.

_Such a silly man_, Rose thinks fondly.

He fumbled out some words and a quick peak inside his mind tells her that he's wondering how she did it, what else she can do, and even if she's human. There's no fear, that much Rose can tell, but perhaps a certain amount of hesitation lingers nevertheless. Rose wonders if maybe she shouldn't have revealed herself in such a way when he had no warning. Impulse control wasn't something she mastered at Hogwarts much to her mother's chagrin and her father's amusement.

Several seconds pass before Bilbo sucks in a deep breath and points to the wand, lips moving.

_Can you do more?_

Rose smiles wickedly before glancing around.

There's a woman making her way down the road toward them. The woman's lips are pulled down in an ugly frown, her chin tipped up, and her body language screaming for a fight of some sort. Rose would have felt bad for anyone else, but not her. Jerking her chin in the direction of the woman so that Bilbo's eyes will find her Rose quickly swishes her wand in the woman's direction and mumbles a spell her uncle George had taught her.

For a moment nothing happens and Bilbo's shoulders sag a bit in disappointment as he turns back to her. Rose nudges him with her foot before pointing back at the woman who is now sporting a hideous monstrosity on her head instead of the somewhat adorable not-quite-a-monstrosity that she's been wearing before.

Seeming to sense the eyes on her, the woman whips her head around to stare at them as she ambles by. Bilbo chokes as he drops his gaze and pretends to mess with his potted flowers. Rose, on the other hand, simply smiles politely at the woman and bows her head. Obviously not having gotten the reaction she was looking for the woman stomps off toward the market.

"Entertained?"

Bilbo nods hesitantly as he lowers himself onto the bench beside her and pulls his smoking pipe out along with a small bag of sweet smelling plant which he quickly stuff in his pipe. Halflings' Leaf or _whatever_ it is Bilbo had called it when Rose had first asked. He'd gone into a lengthy explanation about it but Rose hadn't been able to pick up on everything that he'd said to her about it.

They sit there in relative silence for several minutes. Bilbo will occasionally blow smoke rings and other little thing using the smoke from his pipe but they don't talk much. Sometimes Rose gets the urge to point at something and tell Bilbo what it is in English, he'll do the same - tell her want it is in his language. it's a good way to learn the language... For the most part anyway.

When they finally decide to meander inside Bilbo tucks away his pipe and helps Rose up the steps to the front door. Her wounds have healed rather quickly but they're still tender and Old Hob hasn't even removed the stitches yet. Once she's inside Rose heads for the bedroom that's unofficially become her bedroom. It's unlikely she'll be leaving, or getting back home, for a little while and Bilbo's been nothing but accommodating since she stumbled into his life.

Tucked away in the privacy of her bedroom Rose pulls a small leather satchel out of her bra and tosses it on the bed where she enlarges it to its original size. Her uncle Charlie had given it to her as a gift when she'd graduated from Hogwarts and went on to train as a curse breaker. It's a little battered, scorched in some places, patched in others, but it works well and Rose has never had any problems with it.

_Thank Merlin for small miracles_, Rose thinks as she flips open her satchel to begin searching through it.

Not everything she'd packed is there, most of it's at the campsite where she'd set up her tent along with the other curse-breakers. But it's better to go into a situation prepared then go into it with nothing but your wand - especially when it's ridiculously easy to get separated from the group. As a result of her thought process and her ability to prepare Rose still has useful tools tucked away in the magically expanded bag.

Her broom is the first thing Rose checks for and she's relieved to find her Thunderbold VII all in one piece without so much as a scratch, next she sorts through all of her medical supplies, after that she searches for spare clothes, and then she locates some odds and ends; a small tent, a water canister that refills on its own, a lantern, a set of dragonhide gloves, and probably way too many books.

There's even a picture of Rose's family, framed and tucked away near the bottom of the bag.

Rose makes sure to put it on the side table next to her bed so that she can look at all their smiling faces waving at her in the morning when she wakes up. It hurts, looking at them and knowing that there's a possibility she won't be able to get home - she's not being pessimistic ok? It's just that as a cruse-breaker she's seen some pretty ugly things and sometimes there's no going back from that.

While she hasn't had her face melted off or anything like that she has been dropped in the middle of a world she has no true understanding of.

Sighing, Rose pulls out the extra clothes so that she can put them in the dresser so they don't get any dirtier or wrinkled then they already are. She even changes into a new outfit so that she can was her old one. At some point she'll have to go somewhere and buy clothes or, Merlin forbid, make some for herself. Rose is talented at a great many things but sewing and knitting isn't one of them.

Unfortunately for Rose, the small assortment of kecks, jumpers, and shirts that managed to make its way into her satchel aren't exactly the style here from what Rose can tell. Luckily for her it might be easier to get away with wearing men's clothes then women's as a lot of the hobbits in Hobbiton don't really venture out and the few outsiders they do see are mostly men, sometimes the occasional woman.

Either way though, Rose is going to have to make an impromptu trip to the nearest human village in order to buy her clothes.

"It could be worse, Rose... It could definitely be worse." Rose mumbles to herself as she makes for the door, satchel clutched in her hand.

Bilbo will likely be getting afternoon tea ready and Rose can take the opportunity to look through some of her books to see if there's anything she can use spell-wise to help with her little language barrier problem.

The house she's staying in isn't small, it's big enough that for the most part Rose can walk upright without having to duck under anything, but it's by no means a large house. It takes only a few moments for Rose to reach the kitchen where she finds Bilbo moving about his kitchen with the same practiced ease Molly Weasley moves around hers.

Ignoring the sharp sting of sadness that attempts to rock her body Rose moves to sit at the kitchen table where she promptly digs through her satchel when she's situated. She ends up pulling out an old charm book her mum bought her for Christmas a few years back; it's thick, with yellowing pages and a cracked spine that's honestly seen better days. It talks about magic and rituals that were eventually deemed obsolete by wizard society during the early eighteen hundreds. Hopefully Rose can find something in there.

As she's flipping through it, looking at little doodled illustrations that show the physical effects of the spells, Bilbo places a truly lovely tea set on the table before going to grab the biscuits and other sweets waiting on the counter.

Rose beats him to it.

With a wave of her wand the tray rises off of the counter - and Rose assumes Bilbo's gasp is a delighted one- before floating across the room to settle on the table with the tea set. Once it's settles Rose reaches out to grab a biscuit and casts Bilbo a smug look, the same smug sort of look she always used to cast Hugo when she did something and got away with it.

Merlin's saggy left testicle, she _misses_ Hugo.

If she scans the pages of her book for anything about world traveling or time traveling or whatever she's managed to do even though she knows there won't be anything then, well, that's her business isn't it?

"Rose?"

She looks up, catches, Bilbo's gaze and pulls a quick thought out of his mind.

He's asking her if she wants her tea the usual way or if she'd rather try the new tea he's purchased. The water's already steaming, still whistling faintly in the kettle, and Bilbo's got two boxes of tea leaves held aloft. She's realized that this is something he genuinely likes doing, spending time with his friends and taking care of them in whatever way they'll allow. And he's so damn excited about this new tea that Rose is quick to push the thought of her wanting to try it into his head.

It ends up being something similar to chai tea.

Once, when Rose was on assignment working with Gringotts' American branch, Rose stayed with a woman named Florence who was absolutely obsessed with chai lattes. She taught Rose how to make them, of course, and she thinks that Bilbo would like them. He's got a bit of a sweet tooth and she hasn't seen him _not_ like something. Actually, now that she's thinking about it Rose is going to have to do something really special for Bilbo, maybe she'll whip out some of her gran's recipes and cook him something nice.

Taking a long, slow sip of her tea Rose decides that once she's got a solution to her language issues she'll make Bilbo something truly amazing.

For the rest of the afternoon the two sit in companionable silence in which Bilbo smokes a bit while he drinks his tea and writes, in what Rose suspects is a diary of some sort, while the young witch continues to flip through her book of charms and transfigurations. By the time dinner rolls around Rose is getting a bit of a headache and Bilbo has manages to dribble ink all over his parchment. He reminds her of Hugo in that way. Hugo's letters always have ink stains on them.

Again, that awful feeling of sadness.

Rose sucks in a breath as she rises from the kitchen chair that's honestly way to comfortable for its own good.

"I'm going to bathe." Rose remarks, pushing the thought into Bilbo's head as gently as she can before turning and walking away.

The sound of stuttering and glass rattling makes Rose wonder if she's accidentally given Bilbo more then just a brief thought. It's likely. She's no master legilimens and while she's really good at getting in, pulling information, and getting out without detection it's a lot more difficult to push a thought into another person's head. Blushing from her collarbones to the roots of her hair Rose decides that she needs to get this little issue worked out by tomorrow evening, or sometime very close to then.

~X~

Salvation comes in the form of an obscure little remark in one of her bloody _Hogwarts: A History_ books. She's reading it for fun, nearly three days after what she likes to call the unintentional mooning of Bilbo Baggins, when she comes across a comment about how one of the professors during the eleventh century used a special charm to translate his native language into something the children attending Hogwarts would understand.

There's more information on the teacher toward the back of the book and Rose flips to the page without question.

Rose skims over his name and his job at Hogwarts with the promise to come back later and read it properly before going on to find the spell he used. Turns out, it's not a spell but a special rune he branded into his own skin, because of course it couldn't be easy. Could it? Rose grits her teeth as she reads and rereads the design of the rune, the intent, and how it was applied.

Hesitation isn't something Rose has in spades. She's a bit too reckless, a bit too wild for hesitation but she's not completely lost the plot either. Branding herself isn't something Rose isn't familiar with as she's got a couple of protective runes magicked into her at some point or another, she's also got a couple of magical tattoos, there's no real fear in regards to it but Rose doesn't understand the process enough to just attempt something that might accidentally render her mute if she screws up.

The pros of branding her neck are these; Rose won't have to worry about understanding people or them understanding her, it's faster then actually learning the language which is lazy as hell but _still_, and it'll cover foreign languages too.

The cons are these; there isn't a whole lot of information provided, Rose isn't sure how this would affect private conversations, and frankly she's not even sure the spell is going to work.

Tapping her fingers on her thigh Rose decides that the worse that'll happen to her is she'll end up unable to talk. That would be horrible, of course, but Rose figures that it's not the _worse_ thing she could end up doing to herself.

_Merlin help me_, Rose thinks as she pulls her wand out of her pocket.

Her wand practically vibrates with its excitement as Rose rolls it between her fingers, eyes locked on the brief description of the spell used and the rune needed. Simple enough. She keeps reminding herself of that as she pulls her hair to the side, takes a deep breath, and raises her wand to the part of her neck just behind her ear as that's the best place to hide the rune.

Clear intent is the only way to ensure a spell works as it should, that and a decent understanding of how something's supposed to work. Sucking in a deep breath Rose clears her mind and thinks about what she wants to accomplish with this spell.

_I want to be able to speak to others freely_, she thinks as she presses her wand into her neck, _and I want others to understand me_.

To help clear up any possible issues her train of thought might leave open Rose thinks of the little things as well, like being able to hold private conversations and such. Once it's a solid image in her mind Rose begins muttering under her breath.

Fire spreads across her neck, a sharp burn that almost makes Rose rip her wand away, but it's not the worst pain she's ever felt and Rose knows better then to stop a spell halfway through. To distract from the pain Rose latches onto her goals and what she wants to accomplish, muttering under her breath all the while, even as the pain begins to ebb into a dull ache which soon fades to nothing at all.

Pain gone, Rose drops to her knees and pulls her wand away to check her neck - to make sure she's not bleeding or terribly disfigured she's not sure, but there's no melted flesh so that's good she supposes. The only thing Rose can feel that's different is a slightly raised patch of flesh that must be where the rune has been scarred into her neck.

"Bilbo!" Rose calls out to make sure she can still actually form words and not unintelligent grunts or huffs.

She's very, very relieved when she actually hears her own voice echo through the room.

Down the hall she can hear a series of hurried footsteps and curses coming closer, closer, closer. Rose only just manages to push off the floor in time to have Bilbo tap frantically at the door.

"Rose? Is everything alright?" She hears Bilbo call through the heavy oak.

"Everything's fine!" She scrambles to open the door and smile at Bilbo in what she hopes is a reassuring way. "I just figured something out and I think we should probably talk."

It'll be much easier to do now that she's not pushing thoughts into his head and hoping he has enough context to figure out what she means. Actually being able to hold a conversation with someone is something Rose will never take for granted ever again if she can help it.

"I... Why, yes I suppose... You speak the common tongue?" Bilbo rambles, eyes narrowing slightly in his confusion.

Rose nods slowly and says, "I do now. It's one of the reasons we need to talk... Is it alright if we go to the sitting room?"

Bronze curls bounce slightly as Bilbo nods and motions for Rose to follow him down the hall to the sitting room where he takes a seat in a plush chair covered in tan fabric. Rose chooses to take a seat across from him in an equally plush chair that tries to swallow her whole if she doesn't sit on the edge of the cushion. Casting a look at Bilbo Rose decides that there's really no point in beating around the bush.

So she tells him everything.

Tells him about the war, her parents, Hogwarts. Tells him about her education and her family and how once she graduated she went on to become a curse-breaker, which is how she eventually found her way to Bilbo's home.

"We were in Peru taking care of curses at a tomb site when I got separated from the rest of the team. It happens sometimes so I wasn't initially worried but after a while I started to get nervous so I went to head back to the rendezvous site."

"What happened?" Bilbo asks, eyes wide as saucers and full of wonder.

"I ran into a chimera."

"A what?"

"It's, um, a creature with a snake for a tail, a goat's body, and a lion's head. They're a bloody pain in the arse and not even native to Peru, which really caught me off guard and was part of the reason in got it's claws in me."

"But you got away! I mean, you ended up here didn't you?"

Rose shrugs.

"Honestly? I don't remember much aside from blasting it off me and booking it for the nearest exit... After that everything's a blur."

Bilbo leans back in his chair, eyes wide, shoulders slumped. He looks like he doesn't want to believe her but Rose hasn't given him a reason to think she's lying, she did show up at his door completely out of it and bleeding everywhere. Still, Rose gives him a moment to process because there is a lot to think about and Rose isn't going to force him to believe anything she's told him.

Eventually Bilbo clears his throat and catches Rose's eye.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need, Rose." Bilbo offers a kind smile that makes something in her chest ease.

"What if I never find a way home?"

"Well, I suppose you could always make one here... If you'd like."

"Thank you, Bilbo."

Her companion just smiles. Normally that would make Rose feel like she's imposing, that what's been said to her isn't true, or that she's just bothering people. But she knows Bilbo well enough to know that due to his nature and his upbringing family is rather important to him, to most every hobbit really but especially Bilbo. So if he says she's welcome in his home, that she can even call it her home if she'd like, means more to Rose then it might have had he been anyone else.

Attempting to blink away the moisture in her eyes Rose smiles and tells Bilbo she's going to make dinner before slipping out of the room. He doesn't attempt to stop her but Rose knows that if she needs anything he'd be more then willing to offer it or at least help her in any way he can. Bilbo's a genuinely good person and Rose thanks whatever being brought her to his doorstep that night. If she's going to end up making friends and developing ties with anyone Rose is glad that it's Bilbo who gets that honor and not some snobby tosser who'd kick her out as soon as rob her blind.

Scoffing at the thought Rose pulls out a pan before moving to the pantry to look through Bilbo's food supply.


	3. Letters and Black Feathers

It's several weeks before her wounds close and leave nothing but a shiny pink scar, it's not a pretty thing but Rose isn't worried about the aesthetic of it seeing as she's alive and not rotting somewhere in the forest. Still, Old Hob gives her a special cream to rub along the scar to help with the pain and quicken the fading process. Rose isn't sure it's going to work but she applies the cream every day as instructed by the aging hobbit.

Rose pops the lid back on the jar as she opens her mouth to let the hem of her shirt tumble from between her teeth.

She and Bilbo are going to the market to get groceries and some other items that Bilbo is in desperate need of. Normally someone comes to deliver his groceries but with Rose finally able to leave the house without her hobbit friend hovering at her side it's decided that it might be best to get groceries themselves so that Rose can see Hobbiton and meet some of the people.

Several days ago Bilbo has convinced Rose to go through some of the clothes that belonged to his parents. He'd said that since no one else was using them Rose might as well pick through them before Bilbo got around to giving them to those who might be in need of them. While Rose is incredibly thankful she's not entirely sure how to pay Bilbo back.

Oh, she's paid him certainly. The doubling charm is good for a great many things and without the government restrictions placed on the currency of this world Rose is more then capable of repaying Bilbo's generosity in that way... It's just that Rose feels like that's a bit impersonal considering all Bilbo's done for her since she barged into his life the way she did.

With a sigh Rose checks herself in the mirror. Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins' clothes had obviously been too small for Rose's taller stature and leaner frame but with a little transfiguration and charm work she'd been able to get them fit to her body and in her preference of style easily enough. Currently she's wearing a pair of dark trousers tucked into her boots, a white shirt, a vest, and her trusty leather coat. To finish off the look Rose slings her satchel over her shoulder so that the strap lays across her chest.

Deciding to leave her hair the way it is Rose grabs the small coin purse Bilbo had gifted her off the side table and makes for the kitchen where Bilbo is probably making a list of all the things he'll be needing to buy today.

"Morning Bilbo." Rose greets as she makes for the table where breakfast is already laid out.

"Good morning, Rose. Sleep well?"

"Well enough I s'pose. You?"

"Very well indeed, thank you."

Rose smiles as she pulls out her seat, the smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee hitting her as she lowers herself into the chair. Briefly wondering if living with a hobbit is healthy for her Rose begins loading her plate with various bits. Most of what she sees on the table is actually pretty healthy all things considered, but Rose has also taught Bilbo how to make a few breakfast items common in her world and those aren't _nearly_ as healthy as one would think.

"Are you excited to be getting out of the house, Rose?" Bilbo asks once they've both settled at the table.

"Extremely. I haven't been cooped up like this since I was a fourth year." Rose comments before shoving a a chunk of pancake in her mouth.

"What happened?"

Rose swallows before she speaks, her mother didn't raise a heathen after all.

"I might have broken a couple of ribs flying around in the back yard when I wasn't supposed to. Mum was livid."

"What were you doing if you knew you weren't suppose to be out there."

"Hugo, my brother, wanted to try out for the Hufflepuff team and I told him I'd practice with him. We ended up doing less practicing and more dinking around then we should have."

Bilbo's brows furrow.

"Did he make the team?"

This makes Rose smirk, a twist of the lips and a raising of the eyebrows that has always implied infamous mischief.

"Oh yeah," Rose says, "he got positioned as a Beater."

The rest of breakfast is spent explaining quidditch to Bilbo, who seems to get the concept of the game without really understanding it. Rose tries to explain as best she can but there's only so much she can do with words so she's going to have to figure out a way to show Bilbo a proper game. Projecting the thought into his head won't work as there are simply too many details that Rose could lose in the process.

Maybe she can find a way to make a pensieve.

Rose helps Bilbo clear the table and put away the left over food before following him out of the house. He doesn't even bother locking his front door, something about hobbits not being thieves. Rose thinks that's oddly optimistic and quickly locks his door as he makes for the front gate.

Walking from Bilbo's home to the market isn't bad and Rose finds herself entertained by children playing and men ambling along with their carts and women gossiping as they too head for the market. It's nowhere near as fantastic as Diagon Alley but there's more then enough to keep Rose's mind occupied- a feat not so easily achieved considering Rose usually gets bored with things that aren't able to hold her attention for longer then a few minutes.

Once they reach the market Bilbo goes about buying his groceries, explaining things to Rose and introducing her to people as they go along. At one point Bilbo gets caught up talking to a man with thinning brown hair and doesn't seem too interested in ending the conversation anytime soon. Which is perfectly fine because Rose has her own money and an insatiable urge to explore.

Slipping into the crowd Rose allows herself a moment to take everything in without it having to be explained to her.

There's a stand not too far away selling bolts of fabric, a man selling fresh bread, and a young girl selling flowers out of a prettily woven basket. It's so different from what Rose is used to that she almost doesn't notice when Bilbo slides up next to her, too caught up in her musings and fascinations.

"What's your favorite flower, Rose?" Bilbo asks, noticing her lingering stare on the flower girl.

"Isn't it obvious?" She asks coyly causing Bilbo to blush.

"I didn't want to assume. I'm sorry if I mi-"

"I prefer yellow daisies, magnolias, or snowdrops." Rose tucks some of her hair behind her ear to get it out of her face, silently regretting cutting it before she left for Peru. "When I was younger I loved roses but then those were all I ever got from anyone on special occasions so I kind of resented them for a while... It was my cousin Albus that started getting me assortment bouquets."

"That was kind of him."

"Albus is an incredibly gentle soul. I think you'd have liked him."

It seems to please the hobbit, her statement, because he beams up at her while absently tugging at the delicately woven suspender straps no longer hidden beneath his coat. Bilbo is rather well dressed, very dapper. Rose isn't sure if that's due to his own personal style or his upbringing... Either way it doesn't matter she supposes. Bilbo is a remarkably well-dressed man and Rose has always enjoyed the company of well-dressed people.

Movement out of the corner of her eye draws Rose's attention away from Bilbo and to a very tall, very lovely man making his way down the path that leads through and out of Hobbiton. He's got long hair dark like a raven's wing and delicate features. Rose gets the impression that she should be mystified by his beauty but... Well, not to be unkind but she grew up with Fleur and her children and there's really no one prettier then Fleur or Victoire or Dominique, even Louis is unreasonably handsome.

All the same, she taps Bilbo with her knuckles and motions down the lane to the man wandering by without so much as a glance toward the market.

"Who's that?" Rose asks and Bilbo turns to stare at the man for a moment.

"Oh, likely a Rivendell Elf, they pass through Hobbiton every so often." Bilbo explains and Rose frowns.

"Where is Rivendell?"

"Several days west of here. The Lord of Rivendell is an elf named Elrond, he is said to be very wise."

Rose purses her lips as she watches the elf-that-isn't-Elrond disappear from her line of sight.

_Very wise, wise, wise_. Rose thinks of her mother and Luna and her uncle George. Elves, she remembers Bilbo saying one night over dinner, are immortal and have a certain type of magic all their own. Maybe he could help her find her way home, and even if he can't maybe he knows how to get into contact with one of the wizards of this world. There are so few and contacting them has proven difficult.

Pursing her lips Rose turns back to Bilbo.

"How would one get a letter to Lord Elrond of Rivendell?" She questions.

"Well, I suppose you could sent a letter through the post... Might take some time though as most hobbits don't tend to go farther then Bree if they leave Hobbiton at all."

Because whhy wouldn't they leave and explore the world, right?

"That seems rather a waste of time then." Rose mutters, already thinking of ways she can get a letter to the Elf Lord.

A Patronus may work but there's no way of telling if her message would be relayed privately, a letter sent over such a long distance isn't exactly safe from prying eyes either. Rose might trust the Hobbits well enough but she knows better then to trust a curious human. The last thing she wants is her secret getting out to the world. Perhaps she could make the trip herself? Bilbo said it was west of Hobbiton and she could always get herself a map.

"How do you send letters?"

Rose looks to Bilbo, "I beg your pardon?"

"Letters, how did you send them before?"

"Oh, um, we use Owl Post for the most part... Unless we need to contact muggles, then we use the muggle post systems." Rose says.

"Owl Post?"

"Yes, we use owls to fly packages and letters wherever they need to go. I often used my brother's owl to send letters to my mother and father when we were in school."

"Didn't you have one?"

"No. My familiar was a cat named Junipurr Soft Paws."

"... Juniper Soft Paws..."

"I was eleven and she was fluffy!"

Eventually Rose had started calling her Junipurr instead of using her full name but that was only because Sirius and Fred always gave her so much shit about it. Still, she reserves the right to say that Junipurr Soft Paws is an amazing name. They were simply jealous of her amazing naming abilities.

"I'm not judging you."

He is, kind of. That's alright.

"I didn't say you were."

Rose tries to toss her hair over her shoulder but the auburn strands are still too short to have the same effect the action would have had if, say, Lily had done it. Short hair had always been the best for Rose's line of work as she could scrape it into a bun to keep it out of her face without it being too heavy or too hot should she ever need to let it down. That's not an issue here but Rose still hasn't really let her hair grow further then her shoulders in years... That might change in the future though.

"Right... Have you considered getting an owl?" Bilbo asks, fingers plucking at a loose string on his waist coat.

"A couple of times. They make good familiars and it would have been easier to sent letters but I never got around to it and now... Well, it doesn't matter much now."

She watches as Bilbo's shoulders deflate a bit and quickly offers a kind smile.

"But it's alright. I'll write a letter for Lord Elrond and send it in the post like everyone else, might be less suspicious that way right?"

"Perhaps."

The witch smiles as she rocks back on her heels and tips her head back to stare at the sky, at the clouds, at the little mass of scarlet feathers that streaks through the blue and white before disappearing behind a tree.

~X~

Dear Lord Elrond,

No.

Rose crumbles the paper, tosses it in the bin, and starts again.

To Lord Elrond of Rivendell,

My name is Rose Weasley of Bag End.

Sigh, crumble, start again.

Lord Elrond of Rivendell,

My name is Rose Weasley, I am in desperate need of your insig

Rose huffs angrily as she tosses the parchment into the bin with her other attempts.

It's been several weeks since that day in the market and Rose still hasn't gotten a proper letter written up to send to Lord Elrond. She's never had any trouble finding words before so what's the issue now? She needs to discuss her situation with someone other then Bilbo and she needs to do it as soon as possible because not doing so feels like a betrayal, like she's stating with Bilbo on purpose without so much as a thought to how her family is taking her disappearance.

Are they even worried? Do they even know she's missing?

Uncle Bill would have been the first to know. He'd been team leader after all, there to observe and train the new recruits who'd somehow managed to snag a spot on Rose's team. It's why he'd been assigned. Rose hadn't needed the supervision, the other trained and seasoned curse-breakers hadn't either, he'd only been there to make sure the younger ones didn't get killed and now look; Rose is gone, Bill is going to have to break the news to her family, then what?

Mourn. They'll mourn her, bury her somewhere beautiful, and eventually they'll heal. It'll always hurt, Rose has seen what losing uncle Fred did to uncle George, but they'll heal in time.

If she manages to find a way home will it be worse for them? Will so much time have passed in her world that her parents have felt the stabbing pain ebb to a dull ache between there ribs? Will they even believe her? Will they accept her back home?

_Stupid question, of course they will. _

But everything will be different if that happens.

Sucking in a rattling breath Rose attempts to wipe away the tears building in her eyes before they can fall down her cheeks, stop the floodgates from opening or at least get control of herself. It doesn't help much but the attempt is comforting in its own way. Her mother and father wouldn't want her to cry about this. Not now anyway, maybe later after she's explored all her options but not now.

Minutes pass in which Rose sucks in quiet, shaking breaths and lets herself cry a little bit.

Because no matter how much her parents would want her not to cry Rose is only twenty-four years old and she's _scared_. Curse-breaking isn't an easy job and it's certainly not safe but at least she'd known what was happening when she chose to go into the field- seduced by her uncle Bill's stories of adventure and danger and helping keep people safe. Sure, her job literally means she breaks curses for Gringotts but she's actually helped indivigual people outside of the bank too. Saved lives, in fact.

But this isn't something she or any of her associates are trained for and Rose has no idea what to do now that she's here and don't have a way to contact an expert or research her options.

Blinking hard, Rose rises from her chair and makes her way to the kitchen.

Bilbo went out a few hours ago to visit one of his cousins, a Took or something like that. He'd seemed rather excited about it and Rose hadn't wanted to invite herself along no matter how much she needed out of the house. It isn't her family and she isn't going to make Bilbo responsible for her introduction or entertainment when he's going to visit family.

His presence isn't hard to miss though.

Rose makes herself a cup of tea as she thinks of ways to distract herself, keep her mind occupied and off of the letter she needs to send but hasn't. What can she do? She can clean, she can make something to eat, she can paint the walls blue and green and magenta just for the delight of watching Bilbo sputter about it later. Her wand vibrates almost violently in her hand when she touches it.

Sycamore wands aren't known to take boredom well. They burst into flame a lot of the time and Rose has tried, really tried to keep her wand occupied and entertained but it's really bloody hard when there isn't anything really new to do. Hobbits have a pretty cement system and it's a good system but not one Rose is used to following or living by.

"If you explode on me," Rose whispers to her wand as she twirls it between her fingers, "I'll simply have to make another one and then _you'll_ miss out on all the fun."

She's not sure that wands are sentient enough to understand what she's just said but it seems to catch the gist of it because pretty soon after the words tumble out of her mouth the sycamore wand stops vibrating and simply warms in her hand. With a curt nod Rose begins twirling the pretty sycamore wand between her fingers as she wonder what she'll do with her newfound free time.

Deciding that Bilbo really needs new curtains, like yesterday, Rose points her wand at the drab white lengths of fabric but just before she can go about turning them into lacy blue beauties said hobbit comes strolling through the room looking please as punch. He doesn't even seem bothered by the fact that Rose is currently hovering suspiciously around his curtains.

"You're home early." Rose intones, pulling back to distance herself from the curtains.

"I've gotten you a present."

"A what?"

"A present."

"That's very sweet, Bilbo, but you really didn't have to."

The comment is dismissed with a wave of the hand and a significant look.

Rose honestly doesn't know much about Hobbits but what she's seen is this; they're a rather family oriented bunch and they're especially doting on those in their immediate families. Grand displays of affection don't seem to be uncommon and while none of the presents have been overly extravagant Rose isn't going to let that soothe her into a false sense of security.

"Well come on then! I want you to see your present!" Bilbo insists.

_Merlin give me strength_, Rose thinks even as she allows the shorter man to practically drag her from the kitchen, into the foyer, and out into the front yard where he eagerly thrusts his hand in the direction of a large cage sitting on the gate. Something in Rose goes very, very still and it tastes like anticipation.

"Bilbo?"

"I went to visit my cousin today, a Tookish cousin, and I told him of your interest in owls and asked if he might be able to tell me where I might purchase one. He wasn't able to find any owls, unfortunately, but he did know of a woman who found an injured Raven in her garden just the other day... I thought that perhaps you might be able to help it?"

A quick glance at Bilbo then Rose is making for the cage, carefully pulling up the fabric covering it to get a look at the raven kept withing. It's wing is wrapped in white cloth so Rose can only assume his wing is broken- an easy enough fix all things considered. Easing the cloth back over the cage Rose turns to Bilbo.

"Thank you, Bilbo." She says to the hobbit, whose response is a brilliant red blush.

"You're very welcome, Rose."

Rose grabs the cage and begins making her way inside to the kitchen where she can remove the cloth and get a better look at the raven's wing without risking it trying to fly off into the wild. When she makes it to the kitchen Rose places the cage on the tale, removes the cloth covering, and opens the cage door so that she can attempt to scoop the raven out without startling it too badly.

"Hello pretty bird," she coos at the raven, hand slipping around its body so she can pull it out and to her chest. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Obviously, the raven doesn't believe her because it begins to car and peck at her, it's uninjured wing beating frantically in an attempt to fly up out of her grasp. Rose merely holds it with gentle firmness as she pulls out her wand and places it against the bird's injured wing so that she can run some diagnostic charms.

Healing hadn't been a major area of study for her but all curse-breakers are required to undergo a basic healing class through St. Mungo's before they can be sent out into the field. Rose had seen the value of the class so she'd made sure to remember everything she'd learned from the healer who taught her and the rest of the trainees.

A broken wing is nothing compared to what Rose has been forced to recon with. She can help this bird.

"Episkey." Rose says, wand aimed at the bandaged wing.

There's a loud garble from the bird in her arms and a soft crunch that's almost inaudible. Rose smiles as she begins carefully unwrapping the bird's wing. She pushes her magic into the bird's body as she does, to make sure that there aren't any other injuries or unfavorable reactions to the spell she just used. There isn't. But something does reach out and latch onto her, something wild and aching and intelligent.

The bird in her arms stops struggling.

"What was that?" Bilbo asks.

"Basic healing charm. It fixes things like broken noses and small cuts... I figured that since the bones in the wings are so delicate that it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Is it healed then?"

"Might be. I took the required healer courses and that's it, my knowledge of healing is limited."

"Oh," Bilbo looks mildly disappointed, "I see."

Snorting, Rose slips the bird back into its cage so that she can go about getting it food and water without it flying off and potentially injuring itself again.

"I'll show you how to make a bruise healing paste if you want. Maybe some other potions as well... Would depend on if the ingredients are available or not." Rose says as she rubs her palms on her thighs to get rid of the moisture that's spilled onto her hands as she pours water into a small bowl.

After the bowl is full Rose carefully cuts little chunks of meat up and puts them on a plate. Both dishes go into the cage where the raven eagerly begins taking his lunch. Rose watches him for a moment to make sure he knows that there's nourishment waiting for him before turning to look at Bilbo.

"I would like that." Bilbo says, eyes bright and gleeful.

"I think I would too."

She hasn't attempted potion making yet due to the fact that she's not even sure she can get her hands on some of the major ingredients. Hopefully she can find the items needed for the less intense potions that she'd learned to make in her potions classes. The reality of the situation is that Rose probably won't be able to make very many potions, if any at all, but she's always enjoyed a challenge and she thinks it would be interesting to at least try to make them.

Without access to all the needed materials and tools Rose might even be forced to improvise. Wouldn't _that_ be interesting? She'd been taught to make potions with very a very strict set of steps, any divergence from those steps could have resulted in pretty nasty consequences.

Grinning, the young witch throws her hands up above her head and tips back until her back arches and there's a sharp pop from somewhere along her spine. Bilbo cringes away from the sound and turns to look at Rose with big, wide, horrified eyes.

"That was horrible." Bilbo says to which Rose shrugs.

There are a lot of things that Rose does that makes Bilbo either incredibly uncomfortable or makes him thinks Rose was raised by savages... Which, yes, maybe her upbringing wasn't exactly the same as Bilbo's but Rose thinks his discomfort has more to do with the fact that he _wishes_ he could be as carefree and amazing as Rose. Hobbits are, after all, expected to act a very specific way.

"That was amazing. I feel much better."

"You're a heathen."

Rose takes a napkin off of the table, wads it up into a ball, and tosses it at Bilbo's head to which the hobbit squeaks before tossing it back at her. With reflexes honed from years as a seeker Rose hooks her foot around the table leg and throws herself back so that the chair rocks back onto it's two back legs as Bilbo's weapon flies over her head.

She laughs.

"Oh! Next time!" She says as she tips the chair back, grabs the bird cage, and rises so that she can make her way to the bedroom while Bilbo sputters about how there will most certainly not be a next time as Rose so eloquently put it. Rose just rolls her eyes and makes her way to her bedroom. She'll get Bilbo to loosen up one of these days.


	4. A Pretty Thing Like You

"Are you certain you have everything?" Bilbo asks, wringing his hands nervously while Rose finishes packing some more non-perishables into her satchel to rest among her extra clothes, books, and supplies.

She'd finally gotten enough courage to send Lord Elrond a letter- Munin made an excellent messenger raven and had returned only two weeks after she'd sent him off the first time, which honestly isn't terrible for a first time messenger- and she'd gotten a reply asking for her to come to Rivendell so that she and Lord Elrond could discuss her appearance personally.

Flying, Rose had decided after reading the elven Lord's letter, is the quickest and safest way for her to reach Rivendell.

"I've got everything and if all else fails I can always stop in Bree to get anything I've forgotten." Rose assures before turning and smiling at her friend. "Are you sure you don't want to come? There's more then enough room on my broom for two."

Bilbo shakes his head, stuttering out a quick, "I'm quite alright... If you want someone to go on an adventure with, I'd suggest taking a Took. They're not like most _respectable_ hobbits, they enjoy adventure and mischief. We Bagginses enjoy a simpler lifestyle."

_Liar_, Rose thinks even though she doesn't call him on it.

"Have you ever gone on an adventure, Bilbo?" She asks instead.

Her friend blushes, a bright spread of blood across his cheeks and down beneath the collar of his shirt. Bilbo spits out an answer; something about going into the woods as a child and pretending he was one of the Maiar until he grew older and understood that he had an example to set. It had saddened his mother, he'd admitted, to see her son acclimate to the hobbit lifestyle so easily but as she'd done something similar when she married Bilbo's father there hadn't been much she could say about it.

Rose thinks that there are a lot of ridiculous cultural standards but decides it's not her place to say as she'd grown up in a civilization with similar standards and expectations. As the child of Hermiong Granger and Ronald Weasley, the eldest too, Rose had learned early that she needed to act a certain way. Nothing that would hurt her or make her miserable but... There were silent expectations and molds that Rose found herself fitting into in her formative years and throughout her schooling. So can she really say anything to Bilbo about breaking stereotypes? About not letting what others want or expect influence the way he lives his life?

Food for thought she supposes.

Sighing, Rose reaches above her head and stretches until she hears something in her back pop, pop, pops.

"If you're certain." She finally says, slinging her pack over her head so that the strap rests across her body.

"I'm certain."

"I'll be back in a couple of weeks, maybe a little later, I'll try not to be gone too long." Rose promises.

Bilbo waves her off.

"This is important to you," he says, "take as much time as you need."

Smiling, Rose moves to press a chaste kiss to Bilbo's forehead. He's such a sweet soul, gentle and loving in a way that reminds her of her Aunt Luna. While the older witch hadn't been related by blood or marriage she always came for holidays and birthdays and everyone always insisted that the children call the pretty blonde with the big eyes 'aunt' as opposed to anything else.

Rose moves to grab her broom.

"Still, I'll try to be quick."

All this trip is meant to do is tell Rose how she ended up on Bilbo's doorstep, how her presence is affecting the balance of the world, and how she can get home- if she even can. Honestly, getting home doesn't seem like an option. She's never heard of something like this happening before, nor has she ever heard of someone coming back if it has. She's had to come to terms with that unfortunate fact but that doesn't mean Rose isn't hoping for a way home.

Adjusting her grip on her broom Rose makes for the front yard with Bilbo.

Munin is waiting on the fence when they exit the house. The raven garbles at them when he sees Rose, hopping from fence post to fence post until he's at the gate, preening even as Rose offers her arm to let him perch near her wrist- he ends up hopping up her arm until he comes to rest on her shoulder. In the weeks since Rose healed him- nearly a full two months- Munin has become something of a good companion to Rose. He can be a bit of an ass sometimes but she loves him all the same.

Bilbo opens the front gate for her and Rose waits in the road until he's latched the gate once more before turning and making down the lane toward the forest where she and Bilbo decided would be the best place for Rose to take off. Rose thinks some of it's because Bilbo wants to keep her around a little while longer, which Rose is totally fine with if she's being honest.

They talk about silly things on the way there; Bilbo says he'll have a special treat waiting for her when she gets back from Rivendell and Rose promises to bring him back something as well. She doubts the elves understand what tourism is so there aren't likely to be any gift shops but she's still going to get her housemate something nice if she can. If all else fails she'll just duplicate a book from the library.

Is it stealing if she never actually takes the original copy?

Rose chortles to herself as she comes to a stop just beyond the treeline. Munin makes a few raspy caws before taking off into the sky, circling above their heads as if in wait before eventually going to rest in one of the trees. Rose shakes her head as she turns to Bilbo.

"And you're absolutely certain you don't want to come?" Rose demands as she adjusts the strap of her bag.

Bilbo nods slowly and says, "I'm sure."

"When I get back I'm taking you flying."

Because she would never, ever force Bilbo to do something he doesn't want to do but she'll be damned if he lives his life anymore sheltered than it already is. If he doesn't want to go to Rivendell that's fine. Rose doesn't have the constitution to kidnap him and force him into uncomfortable situations but she does have a rather large and overzealous family, so she knows how to get people to step out of their comfort zones a little bit.

"I-I don't know about that."

"You'll enjoy it, Bilbo." Rose tosses her leg over her broom and kicks off the ground to hover in the air with her feet only just brushing against the grass as she says, "I promise."

And then she's gone, shooting up into the air so fast that Munin squawks angrily at her when she flies past the tree he's perched in. While Rose does make sure to slow down enough to allow the bird to catch up, the young witch doesn't spare much thought to the bird. They always having a way of finding their people, familiars, and Rose knows that even if they do end up separated Munin will find a way back to her. If nothing else he would always just return to Bilbo's and wait for her to return there.

Munin does catch up though, flying at Rose's right with an ease that suggests he's been doing it his entire life. Rose attribute's it to the magic she'd poured into his body. Something must have stuck, must have rooted itself in between the bird's fragile, hollow bones so deeply that not even Merlin himself would be able to undo the magic done. Well, ok, maybe that's a lie. Merlin was pretty badass so he really wouldn't have any trouble reversing Rose's magic on the bird... But still. Magic.

Ahead of them is a world full of pale blues and rich greens, the line where the sky and land meet a hazy line in the distance. Rose wonders how long it will take to reach Rivendell. Lord Elrond if expecting her but would he be put out if she arrived well before he expected her too? Her Thunderbolt is a good broom- a gift from her Aunt Ginny when she made Seeker for the Gryffindor team- and even with breaks it's likely she'll end up at the gates of Rivendell within a week, if not the next few days. Of course, she'll be taking some time to _explore_ while she's on her way to Lord Elrond's home. She's never seen Bree or gone father then a few miles out of Hobbiton, the idea of being able to go camping in the unexplored parts of this new world and see what it has to offer helps sooth that aching thing in Rose's chest a bit.

Traveling had been one of the reasons she became a curse-breaker and while Hobbiton has been nothing if not welcoming, Bilbo especially, being able to travel again is something Rose finds great pleasure in. Hobbiton is a lovely place but what of everywhere else? Bree and Rivendell? The Mountains? Forests? What kind of people inhabit this strange new land? Rose swallows hard as she adjusts her grip on her broom, curling her fingers around the textured wood carefully so as not to apply too much pressure and send her broom into a quicker pace. As a Seeker Rose has flown much faster than most would consider safe; she's often time too reckless for her own good and stubborn enough not to listen when people tell her not to do something... but for the purpose of allowing Munin to keep up with her, Rose flies slow and steady.

High in the air the ground below looks like a patchwork quilt; pastures, trees, fields, little villages separated by roads and streams. It's so different from what she's seen of other places. While she'd been free to fly in magical communities or hidden under spells there's just something different about the scenery of Middle Earth when compared to her own world. It's wilder here, the further Rose flies the less towns there are and the roads become footpaths that turn into roads again the closer she gets to a village. Rose knows that once she flies over Bree there will be fewer and fewer villages until there's nothing but untamed land.

She doesn't know if the shiver that races down her spine is excitement of fear.

A quick calculation informs Rose that she'll reach Bree in about three or so hours depending on how fast she flies. Stopping a mile or so outside of Bree would probably be best to land outside the town and walk in. A lone woman traveling on foot by her lonesome is probably less conspicuous than a woman flying into an unfamiliar city on broom. The hobbits had been kind to her, less troubled by her magic as she'd entertained children and helped repair damaged things, but Hobbits are also not fully grown human men. There's a reason the Statue of Secrecy was made and while Rose is free to do as she pleases in this world she's not stupid enough to assume that's a great idea.

Burning alive isn't something she wants to tick off on her 'Have Done' list, thank you very much.

So she flies until the smudge of darkness in the stance begins to actually take form then she guides her broom very carefully into a wooded area, dismounts, and eases her Thunderbolt into her satchel before beginning the walk to Bree while Munin settles on her shoulder. Rose makes sure her wand is tucked into the sleeve of her sleeve so that if anything does happen she can get to it easily. Hopefully it won't come to that but Rose isn't going to fool herself into thinking that she's one hundred percent safe in Bree. Pulling her hood up over her head Rose steps out of the trees and onto the road that leads into the town.

It's a peaceful trip into Bree and Rose soon finds herself surrounded by people and buildings that are actually her size. It'll be nice to be able to go into a shop without having to worry about whether or not she's going to end up bashing her head into the ceiling.

The Prancing Pony ends up being the establishment Rose graces with her presence; she enters the pub with a small grin, makes her way over to the bar, orders herself a pint and a meal- because it's lunch and she can- then pays with the coin she'd brought before turning to people watch.

"You from around these parts?" The man behind the bar asks as he places Rose's pint in front of her.

He's got a roundness to him and a ruddy face that his eyes shine in. There's a certain look in his face that tells Rose he genuinely enjoys his job and takes an interest in the people that visit the Prancing Pony. Rose wonders if he owns the place.

"Very." Rose smiles. "Rose Weasley."

"Stanwick Butterbur. Where are you heading?"

"East, to visit a friend."

Stanwick seems a kindly fellow but Rose doesn't _trust_ strangers.

"Ah. Well, I'd be careful if I was you... Orcs like to roam in the wild places between here and there, best not to get mixed with that lot." Stanwick says.

"I've never met an orc before." Rose intones before takes a sip of her beer.

It's good, nothing like the wheat beer Rose prefers but good none-the-less. She takes another sip as Stanwick shakes his head.

"You're alive so I'd reckon not. Nasty creatures, orcs, more likely to rip your head off and eat your innards than point you in the right direction." Stanwick spits on the floor after he says that.

"They sound lovely." Sarcasm is, after all, one of Rose's best languages.

For a long moment Stanwick is silent, then he bursts into laughter. Rose drinks as she watches him chortle to himself.

"You be careful out there, girl, pretty thing like you wouldn't last two seconds with an orc." Stanwick offers her a sad sort of smile before disappearing to tend to another patron.

Rose frowns but says nothing in favor of eating her lunch.

Getting to Rivendell as soon as possible would probably be best considering what Stanwick said. Bilbo had of course warned her to be careful on the road but he'd glossed over anything about Orcs- probably because he had forgotten that Rose wouldn't know about them- and if they're as bad as Stanwick made them out to be Rose doesn't want to run into them. She could, of course, handle any altercation she might have with an orc but there's only so far her magic will take her if there's more than two or three. Self defense classes aren't the same as combat training and Rose doesn't want to get herself into a situation she can't get out of.

The moment she finishes her meal Rose says goodbye to Stanwick and leaves the Prancing Pony the way she came. Once she's out of direct eyesight Rose lifts her arm for Munin to perch on and smiles as she digs into her satchel for her broom, a pair of transfigured goggles she'd made before leaving the Shire, and a scarf.

"Do you know where Rivendell is?" Rose asks as she begins spelling her hair into braids, once they're in she slips the strap of her goggles over her head and fixes the rest where it needs to be on her face. It's a trick getting it on with one hand but she manages it, just, after a few moments of trying.

Munin caws once, hops up and down her arm, then flies off his perch to hover around her head. She takes that as a yes.

"Meet me there then. I'll be traveling faster from this point on and I don't want you to get lost when we end up separating." Rose explains, fingers nimbly weaving her scarf around her head so that it covers her head.

With her hair being as wild as it is flying has always been a challenge. Wind knots are hard enough to get out of her hair on a good day but they're nearly impossible after a day of hard flying, so she's gotten into the habit of braiding her hair out her face and then wrapping everything in a scarf that she charms into place so that it doesn't go flying off her head. It makes everything easier at the end of the day.

After checking her scarf to make sure it's secured around her head Rose waves Munin off, grabs her broom off the ground, and mounts. She rolls her neck until it cracks and then she takes off with a burst of speed that makes dust from the road rise up in her wake.

~X~

Flying, Rose decides as Rivendell begins to rise on the horizon, is honestly the best way to travel. It's only been just over three hours after leaving Bree and she's already reached the border of Lord Elrond's elven city. The letter in her inner jacket pocket practically burns as Rose pulls back to a slower pace and maneuvers her broom closer to the ground. She'd been told to give the guards at the gate her letter but she's forced to wonder how likely they'll be to take her to Lord Elrond when she comes flying up to them.

Sighing, Rose slows to a stop and stiffly dismounts.

It's been a while since she's flown that long and it's a trip that hasn't been good to her body; thighs ache, back stiff, hands sore. Hopefully Elrond will be able to give her something for her aching muscles, but even if he doesn't Rose is never leaving Bilbo's house without _something_. Because, honestly, not bringing some sort of ointment along had been a bad move on Rose's part.

She's muttering about stiff muscles, being spoiled by magical medicine, and stuffing her broom into her satchel when something cold and sharp presses gently against the middle of her neck.

_Now_, Rose has never been good about keeping her mouth shut in testy situations. More than one of the detentions she got while attending Hogwarts was for popping off at a teacher during class or at another student in the corridors where she was overheard by an authority figure. After so many less than pleasurable outcomes one would think Rose would learn not to run her mouth during certain situations. Spoiler alert; she hasn't.

Without much thought Rose pulls her wand out of her sleeve, twists away and under the blade which slowly morphs into an umbrella, and turns to face her attacker to whom she smiles and says, "I must say, I've always liked it a bit rough but I'm not all that into knife play. However, I could always use a spanking... If you're up for it." then she winks.

Her attacker is gorgeous; all blonde hair and blue eyes and broad shoulders emphasized by the armor he's wearing. Rose thinks he must be an elf seeing as he's guarding Rivendell but she's not just going to assume. The maybe-elf-man frowns before he catches on to what he says and blushes a brilliant shade of red. It's enough to make Rose snort as she drops her wand arm and reaches into her jacket for Elrond's letter.

"Relax," She says, "I'm here for official business with Lord Elrond believe it or not." She holds out the letter and waits until the guard has gotten his wits about him enough to take it before dropping her arm.

While he skims through the letter Rose tries to rub some of the tension out of the palms of her hands.

"You've arrived earlier than Lord Elrond suspected." The maybe-elf-man says.

"I stopped in Bree and had a lovely conversation with a man regarding Orcs," Rose grimaces, "and I thought it would be better for my personal safety to get here as quickly as possible."

"I will take you to Lord Elrond." She's told.

"Wonderful! Thank you...?"

"Glorfindel."

"Rose Weasley." She offers her hand tentatively and when he takes it with equal tentativeness Rose smiles. "Uh, sorry about earlier mate, I can fix your sword if you want."

Because clearly he'll want her to fix it but she's not just going to spring another show of magic on him when he already looks like he wants to toss her into the river behind them and take off running.

"That would be," a pause, "greatly appreciated."

Rose nods, smiles, and turns to the bright pink umbrella clutched uncertainly in the man's hand. She points her wand at the transfigured object and carefully reverts it back to its previous form. Once the sword is again a sword and not a bright pink monstrosity the man, Glorfindel, sheaths his blade and looks at Rose.

"We're not far from the gates but it will still be a bit of a walk, are you well enough?"

He probably saw her hobble off her broom.

"Of course!"

No, she honestly wants to lay down on the grass and let her body work itself out. But laying around and wallowing in her pain isn't going to get her what she needs so Rose bucks up, smiles at Glorfindel, and begins following him away from the river and to the great elven city she's heard so much about. The nearer they get the more Rose can see and it's absolutely stunning in terms of architectural design and such, almost like something out of a dream. Even the people are beautiful! It's almost like walking into a Veela community. Rose snorts quietly to herself at the image of her Aunt Fleur's face if she ever found out Rose made that comparison.

Surprisingly there aren't that many kids running around... There aren't any, actually. None that Rose can see anyway. She wonders if they're all in Little Elf School or if there's just a different mentality on having kids... Considering elves as ageless the need for offspring isn't really, well, dire. Rose presses her lips together in order to keep herself from asking Glorfindel if there are any couples with kids at Rivendell as she doubts he would take too kindly to her questions where their relationship is so tentative. He will be her friend though. Rose made that decision three minutes ago and doesn't have any intention of changing her mind in the near future.

Glorfindel leads her through Rivendell's intricate network of paths and buildings, guides her into a larger structure in the center of the city, and then directs her though the winding, open corridors before stopping her in front of a pair of double doors. Rose watches as her blond friend knocks on the door, he must hear something she doesn't because a few seconds later he's pulling the door open and he steps in to hover in the doorway.

"My Lord, Rose Weasley has arrived." He says to who Rose assumes is Lord Elrond.

"Thank you, my friend." another man says, "You may go."

Rose watches as Glorfindel bows his head, steps away from the door, and allows Rose to take his place before pushing the door shut and leaving her to her fate. Though, Lord Elrond seems much more hospital than Rose originally thought he would. There's an agelessness about him, a lack of age defining wrinkles but not exactly youthful either, and in a way it puts her at ease. If he'd been too young or too old Rose might have been intimidated by him, but with his soft eyes and open expression Rose finds that there's really nothing to feel intimidated by.

"Sorry," Rose begins in a rush after realizing she's been staring, "I was just expecting... Older? I guess... Bilbo said you'd been alive for some time and where I'm from our elders aren't typically youthful... Nicholas Flamel lived to be six hundred ninety-six but even with the Philosopher's Stone he was, erm, not aging very well."

_Oh Merlin, stop now,_ she thinks, _before he thinks you're an idiot and sends you on your way_.

The elf across from her smirks and asks, "Do your people typically live to be so old?"

"Not usually, no, we're long lived but Flamel and his wife were an exceptional case." Rose offers a tentative smile. "I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to work? Um, I know we spoke before but it's a little different in person I suspect."

She is seriously going to beat her face against a wall. It's like word vomit, she just can't seem to stop. Thankfully her host cuts off any more awkward rambling by motioning toward the elegantly crafted chair stationed across from the desk. Rose takes it quickly and sucks in a deep breath as she gets settled, watching Lord Elrond as he sets aside the parchments he'd been looking at before Glorfindel knocked, once they're put away properly he turns his attention back to her and offers a kind upturn of the mouth that might be a smile.

"I daresay it may be, before we discuss anything further I ask that you provide some truth to your claims. While I doubt you've lied to me, as I think the earnestness of your letters would be hard to fake, the imagination of humans is not limited." Lord Elrond says kindly.

"Oh! Of course, yeah!" She pulls her satchel into her lap, opens it up, and plunges her arms into the depths of it in search of anything that could help cement her claims.

Eventually her fingers brush against the spine of a book and Rose quickly pulls it out so that she can put it on the desk before Lord Elrond. Ironically enough, the book is _Hogwarts: a History_, the gold leaf lettering gleams up at them from the cover of the book while the bright red leather of the binding seems too vibrant against the oak of the desk. Rose meets silver eyes briefly before she begins flipping the book pages open so that Lord Elrond can see the pictures and the writing within.

"I could also turn your test into a warbrobe," Rose offers, only have joking, "if you want."

It earns her an actual smile despite the fact that Elrond's focus is on the book and the picture's there in. They remain in comfortably silence as the dark haired elf flips through her book, not being able to read any of the pages but certainly taking in the moving illustrations and such. Rose tries not to bounce her knee as she waits for him to finish because she doesn't want to seem rude but, come on, she kind of wants him to hurry up and realize she's not lying so that he can help her.

Rose almost jumps out of her skin when the book brushes her fingers on the desk.

"I've not contacted the Lady Galadriel or the Wizard Saruman as I wished to see that your claims were those of truth." Lord Elrond explains as he leans back to rest against his chair. "I will contact them post haste and ask for their insight into this matter."

Something like unease makes the hair on the back of Rose's neck stand on end. Whatever it is that Lord Elrond's said to make her feel this way isn't pushed aside and ignored, Rose has been in too many life-or-death situations to ignore the primitive survival instincts that have managed to cling to the foundation of her being despite years of evolution.

"Would it be alright if we just kept this between us? I don't know much about this world but I know better than to trust everyone blindly." Rose picks absently at the skin around her thumb, a habit she picked up years ago from her dad that drove her mum bonkers.

Lord Elrond stares at her for a long moment and then, "I regret to tell you that I am not all knowing. Without the insight of those more knowledgeable than myself it's possible I won't be able to help you," he must see something in her face before he softens. "The Lady Galdriel is knowledgeable and I would trust her with the lives of my children."

Rose remembers how careful her mum and dad had been around strangers when she was a kid, when she was too little to understand how to distinguish between good people and bad. It's something just as primitive as the survival instincts Rose trusts so blindly. Protecting one's children is engraved into most parents in ways their children will never understand until they've kids of their own. Rose thinks that if this man, who is old and knowledgeable and skilled, would trust his kids' safety with this Lady Galadriel then maybe Rose can too.

"If you think she would be able to help I'm willing to discuss my... problem with Lady Galadriel, but until we know if there's any way back I don't know how comfortable I am telling others."

Lord Elrond nods slowly, silver eyes warm. "Of course, until everything is settles none of us shall speak a word of your predicament to anyone."

"Thank you, I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you're doing for me."

Across from her Lord Elrond smiles, bows his head, and rises.

"Come, I'll have Lindir show your to your chambers." Lord Elrond commands as he rises from his chair, Rose has to scramble to get her book into her satchel and herself out of her chair but by the time she's done so another elf has entered the room and Rose finds herself being stared at by both men.

Ears growing predictably hot, Rose offers a grin and a small wave to the new elf standing next to Lord Elrond. He offers her a polite bow of the head before turning to Lord Elrond.

"Show Lady Rose to her chambers and send for Caladwen to see that she is settled." Lord Elrond says to the other man and Rose has a feeling she's not supposed to be overhearing their conversation.

_Oops_.

"Yes, Lord Elrond, right away." The other one, Lindir, says before turning to Rose.

She thanks Elrond one last time before slipping out of the room to fallow Lindir down the corridor. Neither of them say much to the other but Rose likes her companion well enough, he seems the quiet type and while Rose isn't she tends to be good friends with those who can balance out her bullheaded recklessness. Maybe he can join the friendship group, make her and Glorfindel's duo into a trio. She'll have to teach them references from the Three Musketeers but they can work up to that. Rose probably won't be going anywhere for a while so that gives her plenty of time.

When Lindir drops Rose off at the room she'll be staying in she thanks him and smiles kindly, to which he smiles brightly in return, before slipping into the solitude of her new bedroom. It's nice and similar in style to the rest of Rivendell; open and airy. Rose tosses her satchel on the bed, pulls her wand out of the pocket she'd slipped it into earlier, and thinks up her happiest memory to summon her patronus.

When the Irish wolfhound is sitting proudly in front of her Rose kneels down and says, "I've made it to Rivendell. I'll contact you the moment I know anything." and after a pause, "Find Bilbo Baggins."

The patronus rises up, bounds for the window, and disappears in a haze of silver and blue mist that quickly blends into the color of the cloudless sky above Rivendell. Rose shoves her wand back into her pocket and hopes she finds out something soon.


	5. Hall of Fire

In the time it takes Lord Elrond to write Lady Galadriel and has begun waiting to receive a reply in return Rose has somehow established herself among the elves of Rivendell. Surprisingly, many of the people living within the great elven city take kindly to Rose, and if not kindly no one is outright mean towards her. They know she's magical, a witch, but not magical in the way the Istari are, or so Caladwen has told her. Apparently, what little of Rose's magic has been witnessed has been enough to tell the elves of Rivendell that their red-haired visitor is, perhaps, more dangerous than even the White Wizard. Rose doubts that very much.

Rose rolls her eyes as she settles into a bench in one of the open spaces of Rivendell, curling her feet under her bum a little so that she can rest her book on her thighs more comfortably. The _Ancient Rituals: Theory and Execution_ book she packed before she left for Peru had been for Rose to read during her downtime as there would have been quite a bit of it here and there during the weeks Rose and the others were supposed to be breaking curses. With everything that's happened Rose hasn't really been in a good mindset to be ready new material... She's only attempting to start now because Rivendell is quiet, peaceful really, and Rose needs a better distraction than what she's been able to get so far.

So she reads. Devours pages worth of words like a snake devours a mouse. She rereads sections of information, uses simple wandless magic to mark certain theories she finds interesting, and makes little personal commentaries in the margins. This goes on for hours until the wind carries the scent of ink and parchment to her just before a man lowers himself onto the bench beside her. He's wearing a set of amber robes commonly seen on elf men, pin-straight hair held back by a circlet made of silver. Handsome. But aren't they all?

"Good morning, Lindir." Rose greets before turning back to her book.

Lindir had, perhaps unsurprisingly, been the one Rose had pulled into her friend group the quickest; followed closely by Lady Arwen and her two brothers. Glorfindel has remained too busy for Rose to _conveniently_ corner and it would be weird to just stalk him through the city just to get him to talk to her. So until they can have a proper conversation that doesn't involve swords and umbrellas Rose just has to accept the fact that her and Glorfindel aren't going to be best mates and braid each others hair... But maybe that's for the best. Lindir had attempted to braid Rose's hair once but texture hadn't been something he was used to and eventually Rose had been forced to help him untangle the mess just to teach him how her mother taught her to wrangle the wild mess of corkscrews into something more civilized. Somehow, she doubts Glorfindel would fare any better.

"And to you, Lady Rose, how has your morning treated you?"

"Fine, fine... Yourself?"

"Quite well, I've begun writing another Ballad."

The dark haired elf is a great lover of music. Many of his songs are more instrumental than anything but he singing is lovely. Rose is of the opinion that all elves are just born excellent at singing and don't need practice to make themselves sound competent, whereas the lowly mortals are forced to practice and build up their abilities. Rose smiles as she flips the page of her book.

"Are there any well known ballads where you're from Lady Rose?" Lindir asks, leaning closer so that his hair falls over his shoulder.

Rose looks up from her book, nods, and says, "Bohemian Rhapsody has a ballad segment and if literally one of the best songs in the world. Six minutes of musical genius."

Lindir stares at her, brows slightly furrowed, and Rose knows she's going to have to explain because there is no way in any sort of hell Rose is leaving her friend ignorant to the beauty that is Queen. So she snaps her book shut and places it in Lindir's lap before rising in search of a decent sized rock. She finds one off in the shrubbery to their left and tosses it between her hands a few times to gauge whether or not it's going to work before she pulls her wand out of her jacket pocket. This will be the first time Rose really shows off her magic to Lindir and in true Rose Weasley fashion she goes all out. The rock slowly morphs into a palm-sized, jeweled egg with a base made of delicately braided gold to keep it upright, the jewels and intricate carvings create a nice nature scene, and when it's pulled open a little grand piano will play the opening notes of the song that is going to literally rock Lindir's whole world.

Delighted that her transfiguration worked Rose begins layering all the required charms and spells needed to make the music box actually play music. Rose makes sure to keep the song playing in her head as she works, that way it will linger in the spells and charm work going into making the music portion of the music box. She might not be a singer but Rose is one hell of a good charms student - she should be, it was her favorite class outside of Transfiguration- and a talented witch in her own right. This bit of magic may be difficult and maybe a little uncalled for but Rose doesn't care.

By the time the egg is finished and Rose presents it to her friend Lindir is staring at her with a sort of wide-eyed exuberance most commonly seen in children. With a snort Rose grabs Lindir's hand and presses the egg into it, making sure to press his finger into the carving in the center which makes the egg pop open to reveal the piano which instantly begins turning out the opening notes of the song Rose has spelled it to play.

"Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide.

No escape from reality.

Open your eyes,

Look up to the skies and see,

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,

Because I'm easy come, easy go,

Little high, little low,

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me."

Brown eyes go impossibly wider, mouth dropping in thrilled surprise. So this is what it's like from an outsider's perspective, this is what magic looks like to someone who doesn't have the luxury of seeing it every day or using it whenever they please. Rose finds herself humbled by the sheer fucking joy that's painted across Lindir's face the longer the song progresses. It becomes decided pretty quickly that this is going to be their thing. Rose will make him little magical music boxes filled with songs from her world and with more practice Rose thinks she'll be able to make them even more complex... Like, maybe she can make it so that when Lindir opens them up the magic projects an image or maybe the little figurines in the middle can become more interactive.

She's got time to practice, it's not like there's any work to be done in Rivendell that any of the elves will let her see to, and if it makes Lindir as happy as he is right now why wouldn't Rose try? He's honestly the second friend Rose has made in this world and she's always held her friends close to her heart.

"This is Bohemian Rhapsody?" Lindir asks as the song comes to a close and the egg snaps shut.

"Yeah. My dad was obsessed with the band after he found out about them." Rose says, smiling as Lindir turns his attention to the egg that he rolls back and forth in his hands.

"I... Rose, I cannot express my appreciation for this." Lindir breathes after he's finished looking at it.

"It's just a bit of transfiguration and charm work. The magic itself isn't all that hard but the layering is more difficult because everything has to be just right for it to work."

"The craftsmanship is stunning."

"Just a little transfiguration. The charms, however, are a different story. I've done this before so it's not so hard to work with now, but back in the day? Merlin, it took me months to get the charms right the first time I tried doing something like this. Literally. I worked on it during most of my free time, became I'm something of a hermit. If it weren't for my flatmates at the the time- Scorpius and Albus- keeping me fed and watered-"

"You've made these before? Is that how you made your living where you're from?" Lindir asks, the pad of his thumb stroking slowly over the jeweled surface of the egg.

"Oh no, I was a Curse Breaker, my job was to remove any curses or dark spells from things and sometimes humans." Rose smiles at Lindir's sudden horrified look, "I made the music box for my cousin Teddy's wedding gift."

Lindir smiles at her before bowing his head, hands moving to hold the music box against his chest.

"Thank you, Lady Rose, you honor me with such a gift."

Rose moves to nudge his foot with her own and says, "It's what friends do, Lindir, make their other friends happy."

"I fear I may not be able to repay this kindness."

"I never expected you to."

"Then you've a kinder heart than most." is all she receives from Lindir before he begins examining his gift with renewed vigor.

With a fond roll of her eyes Rose picks her book back off the bench, flips to the page she left, and begins reading. They lapse into companionable silence, which is only occasionally broken when Lindir pushes the little carving to listen to the song again. _At least he's enjoying it_, Rose thinks as she watches Lindir over the edge of her book. Maybe the next one she gives him will be something less Rock'n'Roll, though. Rose likes to think of herself as a great lover of music, and with so many family members she's had a long time and a lot of opportunities to build up a rather eclectic taste herself. Lindir might like something a bit softer, something that speaks to his dreamer heart.

Already she's thinking up a list of songs to introduce Lindir to; they'd have to be relatively easy to share with the rest of Rivendell as Lindir is such a well known lover of music and song, but Rose thinks that there are plenty of songs that she could let Lindir make up his own mind about. It's not like he'd have to sing any of them, after all. It would just be a matter of using Rose's music boxes in the presence of others. Still, she'd have to keep the songs as inoffensive as possible and make sure there aren't an overabundance of pop culture references the elves wouldn't understand. Rose wonders if she can get away with introducing Lindir to some of the more risque songs of her world... Well, risque in his opinion at least. Would it even be considered risque? The elves in Rivendell have lived long enough that certain actions wouldn't be unheard of even if they never participated themselves.

_Hmm, food for thought_.

"Lady Rose?"

"Yes, Lindir?"

"Would you like to accompany me to the Hall of Fire this evening?" Her elf friend asks which causes Rose to furrow her brow at him.

"I don't know what they is." She says to which Lindir blushes a bit.

"Yes, of course, the Hall of Fire is near the main hall, it is where we gather to tell tales and sing our ballads."

"Ah. Bonding experiences. Got it." Rose smiles a bit at her friend. "What does one wear to this Hall of Fire?"

"Whatever you wish, none shall judge you on your choice of clothing."

"No, just my inability to sing." Lindir shoots her a look that makes Rose blush and laugh and say, "Alright! Alright! Sorry! I'd be more than happy to accompany you."

Lindir bows his head and says, "I'm glad that you'll be attending. The Hall of Fire is quite beautiful and there's rich history to be shared there."

"Will you be singing your new ballad?" Rose wonders.

"Perhaps not, I've yet to finish it." Lindir smiles at her, a charming thing that makes his cheek dimple. "Will you be singing for us Lady Rose? Or telling us a tale of your people?"

"Maybe." Rose says.

She's not a singer. The only musical talent Rose really has is playing the piano and even then she's not a great player like Hugo or their mum. While she could probably transfigure herself a working piano Rose isn't sure if she can remember any songs off the top of her head, which makes writing or conjuring sheet music a bit tricky. She could always charm the piano to play on its own but that might defeat the purpose of the Hall of Fire. Really, her best bet is telling stories about her time at Hogwarts or her many adventures as a curse breaker when Lindir inevitably gets her in front of the crowd. She thinks the elves of Rivendell will better appreciate tales of moving staircases, talking portraits, and children learning magic than the darker, more gritty tales of Rose's experiences as a curse breaker.

Sighing, Rose closes her book and rises from the bench.

"Is everything alright, Lady Rose?" Lindir inquires almost as soon as Rose moves to stand.

"Just feeling a bit restless is all."

"Would you like to see the training fields? I know you've yet to visit them." Lindir offers with a bright smile and Rose thinks on it for a moment before nodding hesitantly.

"I don't see why not."

Lindir nods slowly before rising from the bench. Once he's stood and adjusted his outer robes Lindir offers Rose his arm, which she takes with a smile, and then they're off; making their way through Rivendell with unhurried steps as they discuss things like Rose's magic, Lindir's music, and news of the world beyond Rivendell. Neither of them discuss the letter Elrond is expecting from Lady Galadriel but Rose finds a sort of comfort in not discussing such things at the moment. Sometimes it's best to just enjoy the little things and not worry about what's about to come.

~X~

The Hall of Fire isn't as crowded as Rose thought it might have been but it's still rather full. Rose sticks close to Lindir as he guides her through the Hall, smiling and greeting other elves as he goes, it's a slow progress but eventually the two of them make it across the long Hall to where a small cluster of Elves are standing; Rose recognizes Arwen and her brother's easily enough, Glorfindel too, but she is unfamiliar with the other man standing with them. Still, she allows Lindir to lead her up to them and deposit her among the group.

Dressed in the nicest clothes she has Rose stands out obviously among the elegantly dressed elves of Rivendell, who all wear pale silks peppered with shining beads and slivers of jewels. Rose tugs absently at the hem of her sleeve as she allows Arwen to pull her into conversation about a new book she's reading. It's nice talking to Arwen as the older girl doesn't expect Rose to be able to understand all of what she's saying, she's also a very good listener and advice giver. Very kind. Rose genuinely enjoys Arwen's presence.

Which is why she allows herself to be roped into telling their small group a series of rather embarrassing stories about her time as a Curse Breaker in training. All of them are rather tame considering elves are a softer race, while she's certain they've got their own series of bawdy jokes and stories it seems like they're more interested in tales of romance, legendary heroes, and eternal beauty. Telling inappropriate jokes just doesn't seem like something she should be doing. Which is a damn shame because Rose has some seriously hilarious jokes she could tell otherwise. Keeping to lighter topics isn't that bad though, it's actually kind of nice. Rivendell and those living here are kind of like the students that attend Beauxbatons; beautiful, graceful, soft in appearance, and living an aesthetic.

Rose respects the hell out of it.

Eventually Rose is led by Arwen to one of the long tables where she's quickly guided into a seat between the lovely dark haired beauty and Elrohir, who smiles charmingly at her before turning to continue his conversation with Glorfindel. Lindir sits across from her and Arwen next to another unfamiliar elven woman and is quick to pull Rose into conversation.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Rose?" Her dark eyed friend asks.

"Very much so."

"Excellent," he turns to Arwen. "And you, Lady Arwen, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, my friend, I find myself quite entertained."

Conversation flows rather easily as they drink and nibble at the food placed about the table. Rose doesn't have much to say and doesn't speak unless she's spoken too, not because she has to or because she feels uncomfortable, but because she's not entirely sure what anyone is talking about as she isn't a resident of Rivendell. Topics range from what one of the weavers is currently working on- apparently she ran out of red dye and had to put her project on hold until she's able to get more- and how Lembas day has had to be moved up to next week so that the kitchen staff can accommodate the feast that will be held in Lady Galadriel's honor. Arwen seems absolutely delighted that Lady Galadriel is coming to visit, Rose isn't so sure she feels the same way.

With the Elven Lady's arrival comes the news of whether or not Rose will be able to go home and she's pretty sure she already knows the answer to that question without the woman's confirmation. On the off-chance that she can be sent home Rose isn't sure what that would entail. There are so many things that could have happened that would have resulted in her coming to this world; curses, hexes, ancient rituals, hell, Rose isn't too keen on adding divine intervention but it's not impossible at this point. Sometimes things happen, sometimes they just do, and sometimes there's no going back from a certain point in one's live.

Does she want Lady Galadriel to tell her that she's going to have to make a life for herself in this world? Or does she want the Lady to tell her that there's a reason she's here and a way to go home? Which is worse? Rose isn't a soldier, she's not a healer, and from what she's heard there aren't any ancient curses to break. Why would she be needed in a world where no one seems to need her particular skill set? What use is a curse breaker without curses to break? Rose sighs, drumming her fingers against the beautifully carved stem of her wine glass.

"You seem troubled, my friend."

It's Elrohir.

He's got both elbows on the table, his chin is cradled in the palm of his hand, and he's staring at her through truly beautiful silvery eyes. Rose finds herself forced to look away as she clears the lump from her throat and says, "No, not troubled."

"Perhaps it would do you good to discuss your troubles with friends."

"I'm alright, promise."

Looking as if he knows she's lying, Elrohir nods once before he begins talking once more. "Perhaps tomorrow you could show us more of your magic? Glorfindel told us the story of how you turned his sword into, what did he call it? An um-brel-la?"

"Umbrella. It keeps you dry when your forced to walk through the rain."

"Fascinating."

"Eh, they kind of suck." dark brows furrow questioningly but Rose presses on, "I'd love to show you some of my tricks though. Maybe tomorrow after lunch we can all get together and hang out in the gardens or something."

"Hang out? There is no where in the gardens that would be suitable for hanging anything of substantial weight." Elladan remarks, his confusion clear.

Rose laughs, a nice belly-deep sound that draws the attention of elves further down the table.

"It means to get together and relax in each other's company." She explains.

"I see."

"I think it would be lovely," Arwen says with a large smile that showcases her ridiculously perfect teeth, "Father thinks the weather should hold for another few days yet."

Sunny and reasonably warm, she means. Rose doesn't think Rivendell is all that intolerable in terms of its weather patterns, even when it rains it's lovely. Rose is quick to schedule a meeting time for all of them tomorrow after lunch before she excuses herself from the group and makes her way out into the hall. Laughter from the Hall of Fire seems to chase after hear as she makes her way to her own chambers but it's pleasant enough that Rose doesn't mind all that much. Her feet seem to drag across the smooth stone floors and the more she walks the heavier her eyelids gets. By the time she makes it to her chambers, closes the door behind her, and kicks off her shoes she's too tired to do anything more than flop down on her bed and curl around a pillow. Before she goes to sleep Rose places her wand on the finely crafted bedside table so that it doesn't get broken sometime during the night if she accidentally rolls over it. Breaking her wand in this world is the absolute last thing she needs.


End file.
